Fred Weasley and the Time Paradox
by Fever-Sama
Summary: Believing he is dead, Fred appears once again on Platform 9 3/4 seconds before his chance encounter with one Harry Potter. Can he save himself as well as everyone else and more importantly, will George trust him? Time travel fic, Up for adoption
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hey guuuuyz! I'm back (After dying XP) just hope my writing wasn't as crap as it was back then. i know that Fred seems a bit OOC in this chapter but you have to remember people do seem to get a bit angsty after dying.**

**Can't believe I only spent four hours on this.**

**Anyway, enjoy this random fic.**

**Edit: 13/01/12 some minor spelling and alterations to one or two sentences. Thanks to the awesome reviewer who reminded me that the twins were _two _years older than Harry and not _one._**

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><p>The sun was blindingly bright. Mothers and fathers of all ages were carrying suitcases and ushering their children on to the Express. A small army of children marched impatiently towards the Platform and began teasing each other and chucking their bags into the train.<p>

Fred looked at the train nostalgically. The last time he had been- even _seen _the train was before he and George made their Great Escape away from Hogwarts. The last thing he remembered was laughing with George, being blasted away by an explosion and, by all rights, should be dead. In fact, he was pretty sure he was dead, because his heart definitely stopped at some point and _George still had his ear. _

Did he go back in time? It was possible, but he didn't seen any time-turners and even if he had one he would not bloody _shrink_. He thought to himself desperately, _I am almost dead, looking at moments of my life before I kick the bucket. There is absolutely nothing wrong and when I get to Heaven I could ask Padfoot for some more tips...if they don't kick me out first. _His brow twitched humourlessly. At least he tried.

But being dead was _weird. _He could feel his toes and everything. His arm was starting to turn black from all the times he pinched himself, the worn feel of his old suitcase rubbing irritably at his hands. If this really was just him hallucinating, then he might as well go along with it since there was nothing he could do beside panic. Besides it really was kind of funny listening to George talk in a voice that was an octave higher than usual. And Harry…Harry, oh Merlin. Eyes that bulged slightly through his eye sockets (whether this was because he was so little or he was still a tad underfed at that point was not something he knew very well) had an innocence that was gone at the end of the Tournament and he was so pale he could have rivalled Malfoy- _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake- as well as dirty oversized (undoubtedly second-hand as well, he should know) clothes dangling over what little muscle he had, making him look like a voodoo doll mixed in with a bit of scarecrow.

It would have been funny if it wasn't so damn pitiful. _Well, _thought Fred as he looked at the Boy-Who-Lived's attempt to heft his trunk into the train and supressed an urge to decapitate the Dursleys, _Here goes nothing. _"Want a hand?"

"Yes please," Harry wheezed, and shouted for Fred to come and help. 'Course, he _was _Fred, but nobody else knew that did they? Oh, confusing unsuspecting kids was so much _fun. _George had obviously caught on to the joke and grabbed the handle, ready to swing it over the gap between the platform and the train. "Thanks."

"What's that?" said George suddenly, jabbing his finger towards Harry's forehead.

Fred's head snapped up. "George?"

"Oh um," said Harry, getting a little awkward and put a hand over his scar, "This?"

"Harry?"

George's eyes lit like light bulbs. "Harry? You mean-" his voice dropped, "he _is. _Aren't you?" He said, stunned.

"Who?"

"Harry Pott-"

Fred elbowed George in the ribs. Twin or not, Harry was like a brother to him and having people look at him like he was, quote his mother, 'something you goggle at in a zoo' was getting annoying. "I think he knows who he is, George. Kind of hard to forget your own name." He pretended to not notice Harry's incredous expression.

George looked at him disbelievingly. "But he's _Harry Potter!_"

"Might not be _our _Harry Potter, George. After You-Know-Who there might be people naming their kids Harry Potter-you know," he said cheerfully, "Imitating the great and all that."

"Oh." George turned. "Which Harry Potter are you then?"

"The slightly less traumatised one I hope," said Fred, surprised he had said that. "C'mon, I think I hear our mother screaming for our hides."

George turned to look at Harry one last time, and off they went. Fred furrowed his brow –something he 'borrowed' from Remus- in thought. Something was _wrong _with that conversation. It felt like it changed a bit, somehow. And wasn't all this just memories?

"-A _prefect," _crooned Molly. "All right dear. Well, have a good term; send me an owl when you get there. Now, you two-this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've-you've blown up the toilet or-"

"Blown up the toilet?" Fred found himself saying in mock horror, "We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum." George added and Fred couldn't resist a sad smile.

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry," said George teasingly, "ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron, his nose suspiciously pink. Fred clenched his fist at the sight of Ron's wriggling shirt pocket and tried not to hex the damn rat. No pun intended.

"Hey, guess who we met on the train?"

Oh sh-

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!"

"Oh Mum," squeaked Ginny, bouncing on her heels, "can I go on the train and see him Mum, oh _please-"_

"You've already seen him Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo (so that's where he got it from). Is he really, George? And how did you know?"

"Saw his scar," said George and nudged him, "But we didn't ask 'cos Fred thought it might be some imposter trying to look cool."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "Fred?"

"Never said he _wasn't,_" he said, holding his hands up defensively, "I just said he _might _be. I'm pretty sure he is, but we wouldn't want Harry to get mobbed by loving fans on his first day of school, would we?" _Especially if these loving fans would shun him with extreme prejudice later_, he added mentally.

Molly stared.

"That…that's a very _mature_ look of things, Fred."

"Why thank you Mother dearest," said Fred, "Glad to know you had absolutely no doubt of my grown-upness." He smiled at the irony of it all, being almost as experienced with war as his mum while _should _being barely able to cast an _accio._

"Don't be silly dear," said Molly quickly, "I never doubted you for a second."

"Uh-huh," deadpanned George. "So what were we talking about before this? Something about a toilet?"

Molly flushed and shooed them back into the train.

"Fred," said Ron, "Was it really Harry Potter?"

"Ask him yourself Ron."

"Think he knows what You-Know-Who looks like?" asked George.

Fred looked at him. "You remember your arch-nemesis when you were one year old?" Was he really that tactless when he was that age? No wonder Snape hated them…or was that just them making his life hell? Life is hard to keep track of sometimes.

"Just asking, Fred." said George, turning a bit red. The whistle went and they leaned out the window, waving goodbye and promising Ginny they would get her a toilet seat for Christmas, much to the chagrin of their mother.

"C'mon," said Fred, "Let's go introduce ourselves."

"Indeed, my brother dear," said George, "That was very rude of us."

"Scandalous," replied Fred, feeling the familiar pattern of their conversations and shoved back the wetness in his eyes. "Esteemed gentlemen like us neglecting our manners! What _would _mother say?"

"She would start on about common courtesy," said George, pretending not to notice.

"Then berate us for being disrespectful-"

"Whack us with a floating ladle-"

"Apologise to Harry about her wild and impolite offspring-"

"Honestly, the favourism-"

"Shut up," said Ron as he went into what was predictably Harry's compartment, "Anyone sitting here?"

"Listen Ronniekins, we're going to find Lee, heard he's got this massive tarantula with 'im-"

"Right," mumbled Ron. Fred stifled a snort.

"Harry," said George, "I apologise for not introducing ourselves. We were utter _prats_-"

"Scandalous, I told him," said Fred. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. This is our esteemed brother Ron-"

"Who has the small fault of not being able to clean his nose, but nobody's perfect-"

Ron scowled.

"And my twin-also lover- George-" He frowned. It was harder than he thought to look like he usually did.

"That's what you say," said George, turning away dramatically and folding his arms, "But you cheat on me all the time! I know where you go on Saturdays!"

"Oh George," he said equally dramatically, "I would never cheat on _you_!"

"Fred!" Cried George, holding his arms out. Fred wiped away a tear (genuine, but the others seemed to think he was getting a bit carried away and he would never let anyone know about this _ever._ Bill still wouldn't let the time he tripped over Ginny's stuffed bunny and bawled his eyes out go).

"George!"

"Fred!" George pulled him into an overly dramatized man-cuddle.

"George!" Fred man-cuddled back, and tried to sound hyper.

"Fred!"

"George!"

"And you've met Fred," Ron cut in, "HE's the craziest out of all of us."

"No!" Screamed George, "What about ME?"

"Yeah," said Harry, looking a bit more amused than last time, "I never got to say thank you for…you know-" He turned in his seat nervously, and fiddled with some folds in his huge t-shirt, "For not making a fuss about it. People at the Leaky Cauldron were, well….um….kind of-"

"People tend to have obsessions with the oddest things," said Fred as he leaned on a spluttering Ron's head. "Just nod and smile Harry, nod and smile. If they still won't bugger off we'd be happy to hire ourselves out as bodyguards."

"Four Galleons every hour," added George as he leaned on Fred's elbow, therefore pissing Ron off even more.

"And now, Mr Potter, We shall take our leave. Don't forget our offer. Come on, dear brother."

"Our salutations to you and good day."

"Look out for fan-girls."

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><p>"Fred, I know you said we would go and find Lee, but could I talk with you for a minute?"<p>

"Fifty-eight seconds, George," said Fred in an overly chipper voice. George smiled hesitantly.

"Are you feeling OK, Fred?" He murmured, and Fred frowned. "I mean, it was probably a good thing to _not tell_ the whole world (here he started whispering) _Harry Potter _was on the train and let him be gawked at all day, but you just seem a bit…" He looked at him worriedly, "_…different."_

"Every day is different, dear brother," said Fred, starting to feel incredibly guilty even if it was all just a dream. "Original pranksters must always be adaptable to certain situations." _Like turning back into a fourteen-year-old._

"Well," said George after some thought, "more different than usual. You seem to drift off into the clouds a lot and you're more serious, which like, never happens. I'm a bit worried." Fred put a hand on his shoulder.

"George, I would trust you with my _life_." Which was true, even after being killed. "I'm fine, just gimme some time to get back to the swing of things after travelling back in time."

George raised an eyebrow. "Fred."

"I'm serious," said Fred, "I was at Hogwarts fighting You-Know-Who with the rest of Dumbledore's Army and I was laughing at Percy shouting at the future Minister of Magic about resigning from the Death Eater-run Ministry and then the world exploded and then I died."

"Fred!" said George loudly, "After what you said about asking Harry about You-Know-Who I thought you wouldn't joke about this stuff-"

"That's because I'm not bloody joking," he hissed back, "That honestly happened!"

"No, you're not!" shouted George, shoving past him and into a throng of onlookers, "Maybe if you'll bloody trust me with your problem _which you won't bloody tell me_ I can _help_ you! We're bloody _**twins**__!"_

"…You can't, George," he murmured, ignoring the burning sensation in the corners of his eyes, "You can't. You're just an illusion. I'm dead."

"Fine," George snapped, "_Fine! _Go live in your dead world! Go fight against a dead guy who blows up Hogwarts! _Go_ _**see if I bloody care!**_" He stormed off, half hysterical, pushed a first year into an open compartment with a squeak and slammed the door to Lee's compartment shut. Fred clenched his fists and yelled at his audience to get the hell away. They did, but it was obvious they were still listening.

This had better be all in his head.

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><p>When Fred opened his eyes the first thing early in the morning (which was rare in itself) he noticed was that he was <em>not <em>in his joke shop or his room in the Burrow. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to keep his thoughts collected. He began counting each crack and each piece of loose thread on his pillow and tried to imprint them in his mind. He would never see them again, after all. He pulled a run-away towel off the floor and headed for a long, _cold _shower.

God, they looked so _young. _You would've never guessed in six years time more than half of them would be fighting for their lives, as well as the majority of magical Britain. They all looked so innocent and carefree and _alive. _He saw some of them fall with his own eyes, as well as one of his idols, Sirius. Was Sirius still in Azkaban?

He came out and ignored George's sleeping form as he tugged on a shirt and his hand-me-down robes. He briefly remembered the feast and Harry getting into Gryffindor _again_ but he and George didn't do the victory dance or sing the school song like a funeral march. He saw McGonagall as well as half a dozen other teachers look at them oddly and didn't stay for dessert. Quietly he slipped out from behind the Fat Lady and went down towards the pen near Hagrid's hut, barely registering the chill in the morning mist and the condensation clinging to the bit of his socks above his shoes.

Thestrals. He could see them.

Hagrid was already there, flinging stacks of whatever they eat at them and beaming proudly when they devoured it. He waved at him, and Fred waved back.

"Hullo there, Fred?" he boomed, "Up early today, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said and patted a Thestral's snout, "Couldn't sleep." Hagrid nodded understandingly.

"Heard you got into a fight with yer twin. George?" He asked for confirmation and nodded again. "That stuff's common after a 'guement. It'll be fine when you two make up." He tossed some more of the stuff into the pen and the Thestral practically flew towards it. "Who did you see?"

"My role model," said Fred roughly. In a way, Sirius was.

" 'm sorry."

"Wasn't your fault."

"If yer ever need someone tae talk to," said Hagrid as he clapped his giant hands on his shoulder, making his knees buckle, "I'll listen. Now go to your lessons 'fore yer late."

"Right," said Fred.

He hurried down to breakfast, swiping a piece of toast and a glass of pumpkin juice. George was avoiding him-he couldn't blame him. They have never had row that bad in their lives, and in truth he felt the same way. But he wished George would believe him, even for a single second within this mindscape. The babble on the Gryffindor table was less Harry-orientated and more them-orientated this year, undoubtedly about their less-than-concealed shouting match. Fred glared at them angrily. As if he couldn't hear.

"Your schedules," said McGonagall as she handed said schedules out. "Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley, may I talk to you for a second?"

"No you may not," said Fred cheerily before George got a word in. McGonagall frowned disapprovingly at him and continued anyway.

"I understand that you have issues among you two and I'll advise you to repair your relationship soon. However, please bear in mind the feelings of other students."

"Sorry," said George, pretending to sound happy like Fred.

McGonagall nodded curtly and handed them the pieces of parchment. "I look forward to seeing you back in the team, and do, do _try to do better _this year. Last year was humiliating enough without Severus smirking everywhere."

"Sure," said Fred. McGonagall's eyes held a tint of worry at the lack of enthusiasm for just a second before it vanished and she continued on to find the next third year. George looked at him sadly, and went to sit with Lee. "I wish you'd just believe me, George." He sighed. "Lee," he called, "I'm skiving DADA."

"What?" Said Lee, surprised, "It's the first day back!"

"Exactly," he said, even though he couldn't see the logic in it himself, "Gonna practice knocking Quidditch player-wannabes off their brooms." He could've sworn Hermione's disapproving look at him before she sunk her face back into a book, as well as Ron's confused blabbing and Harry's concerned gaze. "You wanna skive too?"

"No thanks," said Lee, eying George awkwardly, "I'm not as big a skive as you."

"Right then," said Fred, and went out into the courts. He cast an invisibility charm over himself (as part of his research, he needed to know which spells would work best with his products), a Bludger, a bat and his broom and kicked off into the sky, smacking the murderous ball as hard as he could like his life depended on it.

Hitting things always made him feel better.

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><p>After three broken bats, a severe telling off, hearty compliments from Flitwick about his wand work and twenty points from Gryffindor, Fred was ready to face the (dream) world by turning beetles into buttons. Compared to self-manufacturing complicated joke items, there were no problems at all besides the lesson getting boring and he started turning it into a boot, a quill, a Skiving Snackbox and a TV (Which obviously didn't work), fortunately while McGonagall wasn't looking. The last thing he needed was for him to get moved up and become a <em>prefect. <em>George met his eye seven times even while on the opposite end of the room _in the first five minutes _(Twin synchronisation was creepy) and finally succumbed to a small wave, which Fred did the same back and Lee, being a bit smarter than he looks asked to go to the toilet and McGonagall shoved them together and waited for the inevitable explosion.

"So um," said George awkwardly, sitting on the other end of the table, "How did you do it?"

"You waved it too much," said Fred, pretending not to care, as he trapped the poor beetle with rolled up parchment, "You just need a little jab at the end to make it better."

"Um, Okay."

Wave. Jab. Flash.

It still wasn't a button. Fred coughed delicately. "At least it doesn't have legs."

"True," said George drumming his fingers irritably. "Then it'll try its best to get down your shirt."

"Why my shirt?"

"Because it doesn't like you."

"And why wouldn't it?"

"Because you turned it into a bloody boot, that's why," said George, wrinkling his nose and grinning, "and I could smell it from there."

Fred grinned too and turned the beetle into a cowpat. "I'll give you something else to smell."

George let out a (slightly disgusted) laugh and McGonagall marched over quite peeved. "I congratulate you for doing something more advanced but," she glared at Fred who was laughing himself, "May I remind you next time to transfigure something less…organic?"

"Sorry Prof." Merlin's balls, he doesn't sound very apologetic when his voice was trembling...and McGonagall still does not seem too pleased. An idea flashed into his brain and he waved his wand over the cowpat. It turned into a stuffed cat with grey fur, a pair of glasses and a crooked, dark green witch's hat**. ("Teacher's pet"-Lee)** "For my favourite Transfiguration teacher."

"I am your only transfiguration teacher, Mr Weasley," said McGonagall, but the cat did seem to quell her wrath a little bit…and just in time for the bell. The students leapt out of the classroom like it was on fire and George dragged Fred to the greenhouses, procuring a pair of earmuffs and demanded to be partners. Fred knew what he meant; they could talk then.

Neither noticed Minerva propping the cat up to a suitable place on her desk.

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><p><strong>You know the nice, shiny button underneath that says 'review'? Well, I dare you to click on it.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow. Six reviews. Most I've even gotten from a fic i just wrote out of boredom. Love you guys!**

**...**

**But seriously, this is the longest thing I've ever written for one chapter. Funny what three cans of Dr Pepper in succession can do.**

**Enjoy this chapter people!**

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><p>Despite their best efforts, the singing plants in Herbology didn't make things easier at all. Some unfortunate youth lifted his earmuffs to scratch an itch and was asleep before he hit the floor. Since Professor Sprout was shouting instructions to them anyway, they couldn't even hear themselves as the plants tried to nibble on their fingers and gave Fred a small purple wart on his left hand. He smiled. The poison of a Lullaby Ivy was one of the base ingredients for a Spot Sherbet.<p>

The strange thing was they didn't get to touch Lullaby Ivy till the second term. Maybe he got a concussion and it messed up his memory? Or did he remember things wrong?

Once they had dumped the Ivy into their respective pots and covered them with dragon dung, they made their way to DADA. Which, in turn, gave a good opportunity to explain things properly to George since Quirrell wasn't the best teacher in the world.

He certainly was very good at being a power-crazed maniac though.

"So what you're saying is; Harry is in danger from He-who-must-not-be-named who is possessing Quirrell under his turban?" Said George sceptically, "That's a tad far-fetched even for you, Fred."

"Look, I didn't believe it either when Ron told me," replied Fred, "All I know was, they went down to the third floor corridor-"

"Where Dumbledore said you would be horribly mutilated upon entry-"

"Yeah, and Quirrell was there trying to get at the Philosopher's stone-"

Quirrell shrieked like a little girl as he knocked over a chair with a clatter.

"…or something. I'm not really sure of the details." Fred eyed the little stickman screaming silent rude words at him from George's parchment. "Um, F. No, E."

The stickman huffed as his disembodied head gained an arm. "Fred, there's no way something as important as the Phosilopher's Stone in Hogwarts. I mean, why not hand it over to the Ministry?"

"It's Philosopher George. And because Fudge is a big fat prat, that's why. He ignored all of Dumbledore's warnings until You-Know-Who started his homicidal spree. G." Fred cringed at some of the words the Stickman was screaming. "Merlin, this one has bad vocabulary."

"So what do we do then, Fred?" said George, crossing out the stickman's mouth, "I don't even know if you're telling the truth or not."

"You don't have to believe me," said Fred, "Just trust me when I say that You-Know-Who will return to wreak havoc on the world and we will win the House _and _Quidditch Cup this year. I'm still half-convinced I'm in a dream. C." George nodded. The hangman stepped off the platform and made a strange gurgling sound before becoming still. "And when we're in public, pretend that the thing on the train never happened. People would get upset if we are still ignoring each other."

George smiled. "What thing on the train?"

Fred glanced at his twin. George was always the milder and more cautious one. Sure, the difference was so small you could barely see it, but it was still there. Usually, Fred came up with the general idea of their missions and George refined it. If it was George that travelled back in time and had a heated word-duel with him he would have never believed him, much less forgive him. He mentally noted to be a bit more like him in the future, whether for pranking purposes or otherwise.

Even small differences can make a big deal.

"Nothing," he chirped. "Hey, I got an idea."

George looked at him. "What idea?"

"In the real-in the future…by Merlin's left sock I sound like a seer…" said Fred, trying to not offend George by saying he was just a figment of his imagination, "We started a joke shop. We sold stuff like day-dream charms and Skiving Snack-boxes, which were sweets designed to get you out of lessons –"

"Seriously?" Cried George, and gave a sheepish wave when the class turned towards him from the outburst and Quirrel jumped, "How good were they?"

"Well," said Fred, "For one thing they worked. We tested stuff on ourselves to make sure they weren't _too _poisonous and there was a lot of trouble involved getting the ingredients, but we did it. There were Nosebleed Nougats and other stuff I can't remember off the top of my head and I remember that Pygmy Puffs were really popular with girls…"

"Pygmy Puffs?" The bell went and everyone started to get ready for lunch.

"Miniature pink-and-purple puffskeins," said Fred. "But before we start getting ahead of ourselves, we need to make a small detour to the Potions classroom."

"Why?" said George, wrinkling his nose, "I'd rather stay away from Snape's big nose, thank you very much."

"If we're gonna be testing stuff on ourselves, we'll need some kind of antidote," said Fred as he led the way down to the dungeons. "George, pass me the map. I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good…aha; the greasy git is on the opposite side of the school already. George, get as many bezoars as you can…and take a little of everything. Mischief Managed." He looked around, as if somebody might sneak up on them any minute, "We'll need them."

"Right-ho," said George, and started cramming bezoars from the cupboard into his pockets, up his shirt, down his pants. "Can't we come back again at night? I don't think we can take this much stuff with us."

"Good point," said Fred. "We'll put an undetectable extension charm on a bag or something. Now come on, if we're away for too long they'll think we've been stirring up chaos somewhere again."

"We're not stirring up chaos?" Said George, unloading the rest of the bezoars into their bags and the two waddled awkwardly through the school and into the common room, where they found an empty jar and stuffed the bezoars in. Fred cast a fresh-preserving spell on it and the two headed off into the Hall, where they were greeted with happy smiles and cheery waves.

"Of course we will," said Fred happily, "Just need some planning first."

"I'm glad you two are back together," said Percy as they plonked themselves down beside Ron, "Mum would be worried if she found out."

"What do you mean, we're back together?" Fred shrieked, "George, have you been cheating on me?" The surrounding pupils laughed as George looked offended and turned away in a mock huff.

"I was worried too," said Harry. "I, um, I'm sorry you two, I didn't think I would be this much trouble."

The twins blinked.

"I-What I meant to say is," continued Harry, "I didn't think I would be such a problem that you two would start fighting, Ron said that you've never had an argument in your life-"

"Wait," said Fred, flabbergasted, "You thought _you _were the cause of our brief disagreement?"

Harry looked away and twiddled his thumbs. Ah, he was so innocent back then…

"Its fine Harry," said George cheerfully, "He just wouldn't tell me he came back in time to save the world." He winked at Fred, who nodded and helped himself to some shepherd's pie. Like George said, time-travel without a time-turner was so far-fetched even the most gullible wizard would have a hard time believing it.

"That's nonsense," scoffed Hermione, **(See?-George)** "Time-Travel takes a humongous level of energy, even by wizard standards. And then there is the space-time continuum and the soul -body connection to take into consideration-"

"Shut it, Hermione," said Ron (through a disgustingly large amount of food in his mouth), "Dishn'd ashk fo' your 'phinion."

Hermione looked like she would burst into tears. Meanwhile, Fred's brain was kicking into overdrive. Humungous level of energy? Soul-body connection?

"That was rude Ron," said George disapprovingly, "One should always be polite to a lady, especially one as intelligent as Miss Granger. And Hermione, time-travel does exist and all you need is a couple of twists of one ti-"

"It was the boom!" Exclaimed Fred loudly and banged his fist on the table, the plates clattering and startling Neville who inhaled half his cup of pumpkin juice through his nose. Percy stared at him oddly.

"Are you alright, Fred?"

"I went back in time," he whispered, hammering the fact into his brain each time he said it, "I went back in time!"

Ron stared as well. "Fred, you sure you're alright-"

"_I went back in time!_" Fred cheered, grabbed Hermione and pulled her into a great big bear-hug, "Hermione! Merlin, Hermione, I feel like I could _kiss _you!" And he did just that, covering her cheeks with kisses. "Did you hear that, George?" He laughed and let go of a spluttering Hermione to leap on a very confused George, "Did you hear that? I went back in time!"

"Uh, I actually didn't hear that, Fred," said George, but pleased that Fred was back to his usual self. Meanwhile, said Weasley was whooping and tap-dancing on the table, making a grand spectacle for the other occupants of the Hall who thought he was just dancing because he felt like it and the students started cheering him on. (With the exception of Dumbledore all the teachers were glaring at him because of the inappropriate behaviour displayed, but then again teachers are never pleased by anything except stuffed cats so this is understandable.)

"I'll tell you later," said Fred, feeling slightly giddy from the potential of the situation and hauled George up so they could do the Can-Can which he obliged, "So what were we talking about again?"

"You coming back in time to save the world," deadpanned Percy, "And get off the table. Some of us need to eat, you know."

"Right, right," said Fred dismissively, and placed himself beside Hermione who was looking apprehensively at him, "Sorry, Perce. You too, Hermione. You're a genius."

"That reminds me," said Wood, "You two, ready to save the Quidditch World of Hogwarts?"

"Oh yeah Oliver," Shouted George, "Bring on the Bludgers!"

"Lions for the Gold!" Screamed Fred, "And down with the ugly snakes! May they rest eternally inside the Hospital Wing…or at least for the rest of the season?" He added, seeing Snape eying McGonagall with a nasty expression. Wood, ever oblivious when the Quidditch Cup was on the line, gave them a glowing thumbs-up and went back further down the table. Hermione shook her head and muttered something about boys and stupid obsessions while Ron looked like he was ready to start yelling as well. Harry just looked confused.

"_Um, what's Quidditch?"_

The entire table stared at him in horror while Fred felt like slapping himself in the face. Of course he didn't, he only found out about his magical parentage less than a week ago! "You see Harry," he said slowly, wracking up ways to explain Quidditch to a muggle-influenced wizard, "Quidditch is the wizard equivalent of…um, football?" He looked at Harry.

"I heard about some stuff from Ron and Hagrid," Harry said quickly, getting uncomfortable from the shocked glares at him, "And I know it's played on broomsticks, but I'm still not really getting the mechanics of the game."

"You explain Fred," said George, who looked as if he would swoon over from this revelation, "I'm too traumatized."

Fred snorted and went over to sit over Harry. He pulled out a quill and parchment and drew seven stickmen on broomsticks that waved cheerily. "Let's start with the balls in the game.

"First, the Quaffle. This is the scoring ball. Players called Chasers chuck it towards each other, catch it, and try to get them through the scoring rings. There are three of them on each side." He nudged one of the stickmen towards some circles and drew a ball beside it, which the stickman happily chucked through the loops.

"Then you have Bludgers. They're dirty great big demon balls that try to knock the players off their brooms-"

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" said Harry.

"That's why Beaters try to keep them off their team-I'll explain later," seeing Harry's confusion. "And finally, there's the Snitch. It's small, hell to catch but it gives the team a load of points and ends the game.

"And now the players," said Fred. "There are the Chasers-you know, the ones that try to score goals," Harry nodded, "And of course, there's Keepers that try to stop them from doing just that." As the chaser stickman tossed the little ball towards the hoop again, another one came and intercepted it. "And then there's Beaters. They go around with a bat and hit the Bludgers-the dangerous balls-away from their team and towards the other and try to knock _them _off their brooms. And finally the Seeker. They are the most important players on the team. They need to catch the snitch before the other team to win the game. There are usually three chasers, two beaters, one keeper and one seeker. A Quaffle is worth ten points while a Snitch is worth a hundred and fifty, which is a lot of points and usually guarantees victory unless the other team scored like sixteen goals more. You got that?"

"So it's like basketball combined with hockey and baseball on broomsticks?" Asked Harry.

Fred blinked. "Uh…?"

"Never mind," said Harry. "So Chasers score goals with the Quaffle, Keepers try to prevent them scoring, Beaters try to get everyone on the opposite team off their brooms by hitting Bludgers at them while keeping their own team safe and Seekers catch the Snitch to end and usually win the game. There are three chasers, two beaters, and one keeper and seeker on a team. One goal is worth ten and the snitch a hundred and fifty," he reeled off his head, "and that's Quidditch?"

"Yes!" Beamed Fred. "And you look like excellent Quidditch material." He didn't just look it, Fred _knew. _Harry would become the youngest seeker in a century of Hogwarts.

"He does, Fred," added George, patting Harry on the shoulders and on the back, "Small and wiry, that's a Seeker build. Maybe we ought to tell Wood and ask him if we can bribe Harry on the team, we're a player short if the last seeker's gone."

"I do? It is?"

"I think your dad was a player too," said Fred slowly. He knew how much family meant to people. "James Potter. I remember seeing him on a Seeker plaque." Which was true, as he and George cleaned it far too many times for his liking.

"Really?" said Harry, bewildered, "Wow. I… I never knew-"

"You're having a flying lesson soon, aren't you Harry," said Percy kindly and patted Harry's other shoulder, "If you're a good flyer, perhaps you can get on the team next year. Don't mind the twins-" here he gave them _the look_- "They're always on about ridiculous stuff."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Perce," said George, "We've always been honest-"

"Kind-"

"Loving-"

"Respectful-"

"Good-mannered-"

"Chivalrous-"

"Intelligent-"

"And mental," finished Percy. "Now off you go to your lessons."

"Yeah," said Harry and stood up with Ron, "Thanks Percy. Thanks, Fred, for teaching me about Quidditch."

Fred blinked, pretending to be George, "I never told you anything about Quidditch."

"Oh," said Harry, "Sorry. Thanks, Fred." He turned towards George.

"Kidding, I _am _Fred." George beamed and Percy looked like he was about to strangle the two of them for messing around with younger students. Fred decided it was time to make a tactical retreat.

"Well then fans, Weasley out!"

"Bye Fred, bye George," said Ron, "Glad you two are friends again."

"So are we, Ron," nodded George, "So are we. Now, my beloved twin, what shall we do tonight then?"

"The same thing we do every night, George. Try to take over the world," Fred replied. "And we shall do just that by influencing youngsters into the world of mischief and mayhem."

"An excellent idea," said George. "So how about those ingredients then?"

"Almost forgot," said Fred. He whipped out some more parchment and plonked it on his History of Magic desk. "I dunno, maybe this whole going back in time thing isn't as neat as I thought. I can only remember the main ingredients." He tapped his quill. "Ugh, I recall something to do with Doxys, but it just wouldn't let me remember! Haven't had to make any since we got a manufacturer…"

George looked over at the ridiculously short list. "At least it's a double."

* * *

><p>After several frustrating hours at classes and nearly sending Flitwick to the next world in Charms, Fred decided that two people weren't enough for his crusade of justice and compiled another list. He tried to think of who he should tell about himself; George was definitely <em>in-<em>he was his twin, after all- and Ron probably as well, since he was his brother and by default Harry and Hermione were in too, since they were Ron's best friends, Harry was Voldemort's sworn enemy and Hermione had built-in common sense and a nice three-digit IQ.

Maybe some adults would be good too. Sirius (once he got out), Remus, maybe McGonagall and Snape? He was a good spy and had tabs on all of the Death Eaters, so that wasn't a bad idea…if said spy in question wouldn't feed him to Nagini himself.

Their friends in Dumbledore's Army were in too, especially Neville and Luna. They were a great help and would most certainly be a good help this time round too. And Ginny…

He thought about telling the rest of his family. Sure, he loved them and wanted them to be safe, but being a teenager was a lot of fun and telling anyone else would possibly sabotage his freedom in pranks. But he added question marks beside Percy and Bill and Ginny's names, in case Percy defects, Bill doesn't marry Fleur and Ginny gets possessed again.

Speaking of which…

Fred took a fresh sheet of parchment and wrote yet another list, trying to remember all the important parts of his last life in case he screwed up somewhere in this one. Not in any order:

_Was born with George_

_Started joke shop _

_Percy defected from family_

_Bill married Fleur_

_Harry fought Voldemort for P.S._

_Chamber of secrets (Ginny's diary)_

_Triwizard's tournament (Harry fourth champion, Diggory Dies, Mad-eye replaced by death eater)_

_Sirius dies (after being wrongfully imprisoned) (Do not let Harry go into the ministry)_

_Umbridge_

_Harry attacked by dementors in seventh year_

_Peter Pettigrew not dead and is actually Scabbers _

_Remus marries Tonks _

_D.A_

_Order of Phoenix_

_Snape a spy for Dumbledore_

_Dumbledore dies_

This was actually quite a healthy list…and how did Dumbledore die again? Fred chewed his quill, looked it over again and again until his eyes froze on the sixth last line.

Peter Pettigrew.

Fred's cunning brain went into action. He thought up of all sorts of scenarios that he could capture him with and expose him. Unfortunately, most of these plans involved Death Eaters and Voldemort whether he liked it or not and death was too quick for this traitor. And Sirius. He was sent to Azkaban because of Pettigrew, and needed to be bailed out as quick as possible. Fred started plotting. If he did this right, he could nail two birds with one stone.

First, some George-confiding-and-convincing, Harry-chasing and letter-writing should take place.

* * *

><p><em><span>Dear Dad:<span>_

_How are things at home? We are having a blast trying to loosen Hogwarts up a bit. I hope Mum isn't too mad at us for not writing back sooner (tell her we were joking about the toilet seat)._

_We heard some rumours that Harry (Potter)'s Dad was friends with mass murderer and possibly death eater Sirius Black, who is (hopefully) still in Azkaban. It kind of worries us that Harry's dad and one of his best friends were betrayed by another and since You-Know-Who might still be alive we want to know what he did to get in Azkaban and what his trial was like?_

_Hope you're having a good time at work and we promise to take Ron and young Harry under our wing._

_From your awesome sons_

_Gred and Forge_

* * *

><p><em><span>Dear Fred and George (I'm not that old yet)<span>_

_Your mother and Ginny are doing great. Ginny is getting a little impatient about going to Hogwarts, and who can blame her? When I was younger I remember my brothers going off to school without me and I was so glad to receive my letter. Your mother says that she didn't expect you to write first day back anyway and is glad you remembered to write at all._

_It is a funny thing you mentioned Sirius Black's trial. I spoke to some colleagues at work about Harry and his father's relationship with Sirius Black and it happens that Sirius Black never received a Wizengamot trial, despite it being mandatory to question a potential Death Eater under a full court and Veritaserum questioning. Although I understand the reluctance of the Wizengamot to question a killer it is still against regulations. I am trying to find out why as a person is always innocent till proven, as I have told you two before._

_Please don't try to influence Harry more than you should. Two pranksters are more than enough at Hogwarts._

_Your mother also told me to tell you that we will be quite busy during Christmas, so it might be a good idea for you to stay at school during the holidays. Pass this on to Ron and Percy._

_From Dad_

"See?" said Fred, shoving Arthur's letter into George's nose, "I told you, Sirius Black didn't receive a trial."

"But that doesn't mean he's innocent," said George, flapping the thing from his face, "He still might be evil."

"What if I told you that he is actually the famous Marauder Padfoot?"

George spluttered on his juice. "Padfoot? Seriously?

"Yeah," said Fred. "And Harry's dad was Prongs."

"Wow," whispered George, abandoning his juice to goggle at Fred with his mouth open, "Wow. Padfoot. Padfoot and Prongs. No-one would've thought that _the _Padfoot would kill _the _Prongs. How did you know?"

Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Oh right, of course, time-travel," said George and buttered a piece of toast. "So now that we know that Padfoot didn't get a trial and might not be evil what's next?"

"Scabbers."

"Scabbers?"

"Yeah," said Fred quietly, eyeing the squirming lump in Ron's robes, "I have my suspicions that he's actually illegal Animagus Peter Pettigrew, who might not be as dead as people think."

"He was blown into pieces, Fred," said George. "All that was left was a finger."

"Exactly," said Fred. "And look at Scabbers. Or more accurately, his paws."

George's eyes widened. "You don't think-"

"I don't think, George, I _know. _Look at the Map-"he pointed at _Peter Pettigrew_'s dot that was hovering right over Ron's "-He'll take part in You-Know-Who's revival in three years, or at least that's what Future Harry told me. Anyway, we don't know whether Scabbers really is Pettigrew or not since we don't have any evidence. And speaking of illegal Animagi…"

Identical grins were plasters on both faces.

"Hey," said Wood, "You two still up for Beater position in the team?"

"That's a stupid question," said George.

"Yeah I know, just saying," said Wood. He leaned down and whispered, "Harry Potter is our new Seeker."

George fell off the bench. Fred, having gone through this piece of news already, just said "Yeah, that's awesome!" and gave George a quiet high-five. "Knew he'd make it."

"Make what?" Said Wood.

"That-that he'd make seeker!" Said Fred nervously, "Never thought he'd be on the team so early though…ha ha…."

"Right," said Wood sceptically, "Either way, practice is on tomorrow. Be there." He looked at them sternly, as if saying _OR ELSE._

"Yessir!" Fred gave a mock salute. Wood nodded and marched away to find the girls that were in the team and subs. Fred unclenched the fist he didn't realise he had been holding. "Knew I'd slip up at some point."

"It'll be fine," said George. "Just be more careful. And are you sure that's the right recipe for Nosebleed Nougats and their antidote?"

"Yeah," said Fred. "At least, I think it is." Nosebleed nougats were the most popular in the Snack-boxes. _Let's just hope we don't collapse from blood loss or something_, he added.

"Back to Scabbers," said George, straightening his robes a bit, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Keep him for Ron," replied Fred as if the answer was as clear as day, "And figure out the spell for undoing an Animagi transformation. If he's actually just a rat that is coincidentally called Peter then we give him back safe and sound. If he isn't then…well," Fred clapped and scooped himself some beans, "Off to Azkaban."

"Yeah," said George. "And how do we figure out the spell?"

"We'll look it up," said Fred, "And keep Percy nice and neutral and make sure he trusts the family more than the Ministry."

"For some reason," George murmured, "I didn't doubt you at all when you told me that part. I wouldn't doubt it for a second that Percy would turn his back on us. He's such a big-headed bum."

"He realises it eventually," said Fred, trying to get the image of Hogwarts being degraded into a battle site out of his head, "After he forced himself to know the truth. And how does that work anyway?"

"When should we try to get Scabbers?" said George.

"When we get an Animagus-proof cage or something," said Fred. "Wait. Come up to the common room with me."

They ran up to the tower and through the Fat Lady. Once they got into the dormitory, Fred emptied out the jar of bezoars, gave them to George to cram into a box (and cast a preserving charm on it), and then charmed the jar to make it unbreakable. Then he conjured a lid with air holes and enough space to put in some bread crumbs, but not enough to escape from. He nodded at George. "We'll do it the day we find the spell."

George nodded back. "C'mon, we'll be late for Potions and Snape hates us already."

The twins raced back down and leapt into the room seconds before Snape himself swept in, wrote the method up on the board and got them to go into pairs to make the potion. Naturally, the twins got together, and Fred offered to make the potion by himself. Third year potions just wasn't cut up for nineteen-year-olds, no matter how small the gap is.

Fred was immensely satisfied to see Snape's face turn into interesting shades of purple as he gave them an O an hour later. Good guy or not, he was still a prick.

* * *

><p>Harry looked around nervously. This was his first team practice, and even though there were the one or two crash courses in Quidditch from Wood, he still wasn't sure he could do this. In primary school he was never picked on a sports team- in fact they often did rock-paper-scissors at the end to see who had to get him. And he knew he was fast, having to run from Dudley multiple times, but was he fast enough? And not to mention he would be playing fifty feet up into the air…<p>

Harry gulped.

"Hey there, Harry!" Piped Fred.

"How's our favourite Potter doing?" Added George.

"Hey guys," he answered, slightly less nervous at the sight of some familiar faces.

The Weasley Twins were two of the few people that didn't look at him based upon first impressions and rumours. They were happy-go-lucky, cheerful, smart (apparently) and brilliant pranksters and Harry wished he could share some of their relaxed-ness.

Fred obviously noticed his distress, and gave him a reassuring little squeeze. "You'll be brilliant, Harry. You're a natural, just like your dad. I'll bet you can fly circles round Oliver in a few years. Breathe in, and ooouuuutt."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. Contrary to belief, Fred and George weren't as indistinguishable as they seemed. Around others, he noticed, they were practically identical, but around him (and sometimes Ron, Neville and Hermione) Fred acted like an entirely different person and George noticed, but obviously didn't comment. He knew exactly what to say and do when he was upset and offered him some advice that was really useful to him in lessons but had no affect on others.

It's as if he knew him better than himself.

"Team!" Wood boomed, thrusting his fist into the air, "First practice of the season! You ready to kick butt?"

"As ready as ever, Oliver!" Cried Alicia Spinnet, with Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell cheering with her.

"Especially if the opponent is Green!"

"And slimy!"

"And ugly!"

"And Marcus Flint!" The twins finished, and the chasers cracked up on that one. Wood shushed them and sent them up into the air.

The first half was easy, just him whizzing around randomly with the Twins whacking the Bludgers at the girls with surprising accuracy and said girls wheeling complicated mid-air moves to avoid them. Then the Snitch was let out and Harry zoomed through the air while the girls practiced passing, catching it, letting it go, chase after it again, repeat…

And then the Bludgers were introduced.

"Oliver," Said Harry nervously, "I'm not really sure I can do this-"

"Ridiculous," said Wood, "You're the best damn Seeker we've had and ever will."

"He's right Harry," said George. "If it makes you feel any better we won't aim for your head."

It didn't.

"One at a time, George," said Fred, "Wouldn't want poor Harry to get overworked now."

"Right-ho," said George, and hit the Bludger towards him.

Harry flicked his broom to the left and avoided that one. The Bludger spun back and he dove down to dodge it. Fred nodded at George and fired off the second. Gradually, Harry became more and more confident, and Wood put the girls in as well, so the four (five including Wood) were all bobbing and weaving past each other and Harry could dodge Bludgers like he did it all his life by the end of the practice.

"Good practice today, Harry!" Said Wood, "Nice spin there at the back. Next time we'll do two Bludgers at the same time, is that okay?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"Jolly good, old chap!" Said Fred, "Wasn't that hard was it?"

"Harry's a natural," said George, "Perhaps even better than us, Fred!"

"Oh no!" Fred shrieked merrily, "Our reputation as biggest stars of Hogwarts as well as Leading Quidditch players are on the line! What shall we do, George?"

"Kill Harry in his sleep?" George suggested. Fred sniggered.

"You are not murdering our only Seeker," said Wood sternly. Harry laughed.

"All right, all right."

"Jeez, guy can't even take a joke anymore," grumbled George. Fred nodded in agreement and strategically popped some foul-smelling substance into Wood's shoes while he wasn't looking. Harry smiled. _I think I might like Quidditch…_

Once Madame Hooch decided that Harry was nice and not too traumatized after practice the day resumed at a boringly normal pace. While George struggled with the fine art of cheering charms, Fred resumed plotting with all his might. First and foremost was to get Harry to somewhat survive the end of the year, and the other was to foil Voldemort in his dastardly plan of self-revival, immortality and people-massacring. Fred wasn't quite sure how Harry had done it. Something about horcruxes, whatever they were. Harry probably destroyed all of them. He just hoped that back in his timeline nobody else was brutally slaughtered after the world turned into a pretty galaxy of stars.

Fred rubbed his hands together. Time for some research.

As night fell and George had safely 'borrowed' some of Snape's ingredients the two of them snuck into the Forbidden section of the library. George looked around. "Are you sure this will help Harry in whatever he'll be attempting in his quest to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"Kind of," said Fred, "Look for any books with the words 'alchemy', 'Nicholas Flamel', 'Philosopher's stone', 'horcruxes' and 'animagi'."

"That's a broad section of books," said George uneasily, and almost got his nose bitten off by one of the less friendly occupants of the shelf.

"We might pick up one or two books for our future product line," said Fred. "Aha. 'Fullmetal Alchemist'. This may come in handy."

George peered over his shoulder. "It's a muggle comic book, Fred."

"What is a comic book doing in here?" Fred raised an eyebrow and popped it back on the shelf, "_Ye Darke Objects of the Magickal World?" _

"Gimme that," said George and opened it carefully. When it didn't shriek loudly or try to inflict physical harm, he began to read.

"_A Horcrux is an evile artefacte in which a Wizard or Witch leaves an imprint of his or her Soule upon it. Once the Soule had been severed, the Wizard binds it to an objeckte, living or non-living, and is immortale as long as the Soule is anchored to the Earthe by the objeckte…_blimey, this is some dark stuff. No wonder it's restricted."

"Does it say how to destroy them?" said Fred eagerly. A lively tome with sharp teeth (?) clattered in the floor, making the twins jump, and then it stayed still.

"Um…_the Horcrux cannot be affected by any means that are non-magickal. The Horcrux remains immune to light magic and the Wizard is tied down forevermore…_well, that's friendly. Does this mean that they're indestructible?"

"Not necessarily" said Fred. "I think a horcrux was a diary and it was barely hanging on to its spine when I saw it."

"Yes…but it was a bloody diary. It's ink and paper."

"And evil," added Fred, "And look here, it says it's immune to _light magic. _Although I'd rather us down one Dark Lord, I'm still not very keen to try out any Unforgivables any time soon."

"Me either," said George. "Hey, look, _A Wizard's Guide to Animagus!"_

"Take it with you," said Fred.

"Anyway, do we even know that You-Know-Who even uses horcruxes," George said as he crammed the thick book down his night shirt, "Might be a false lead."

Fred just shrugged and pulled two tomes of Nicholas Flamel's research with him. "Better safe than sorry."

"Wow, Fred," teased George, "Never thought you'd be the one to say that."

"Shut up you git," said Fred good-naturedly, "And get a move on. Filch might be on our cases in a few seconds. _I solemnly swear that I'm up to no Good._"

The two hurried back, tripping over in the dark and narrowly running into Peeves. The next few days they read the books (Well, Fred did, then George took notes), looked up advanced Animagus charms and made plans for Halloween.

* * *

><p>As Fred had predicted, Hermione was not to be seen anywhere at all on the last day of October. From what he heard from the gossip years ago, Hermione was assaulted by a run-away troll that Quirrell had (probably purposefully) failed to subdue and Harry and Ron went off and knocked it out with its own club. And then became best friends.<p>

Life was weird sometimes.

Either way, Fred didn't want to be interrupted half-way through Halloween Dinner and motioned for George to eat quicker. Just as soon as he finished three quarters of his plate, Quirrell barged in, screamed 'Troll in the dungeons' and promptly kissed the unforgiving floor.

Also as Fred predicted, the hall went into a panic. He saw Ron talking in soft, rushed voices and he and Harry (most likely) ran off to wherever Lavender Brown told them Hermione was last seen. Unfortunately, they were a little less stealthy this time and Percy caught them by the neck of their robes.

"What do you two think you're going?" He snapped and hauled them over to a mad rush of Gryffindors, "This is an order. Go back to the tower and await further instructions."

"But Hermione's still out there!" Cried Harry, "She doesn't know about the troll!" Percy's eyes narrowed.

"The professors will locate Miss Granger and she'll come back safe and sound. In the meantime, go back to the tower _before I hex you," _he said coldly.

"But-". Percy ignored them and pushed them back into the crowd.

Fred had enough.

"Would've never thought you were the kind of person to choose duty over people, _Percy_," he said coldly, ignoring the audible gasp from surrounding students. "Oh wait, yes you are."

"Fred!" Bellowed Percy, turning red, "The instructions given had good reason-"

"For the professors to go off on a merry little wild goose chase!" Fred all but bellowed back, "And what if they don't make it in time? Not one of them has noticed Hermione Granger's absence from the dinner table and from the looks of things she isn't the biggest concern at the moment!"

"Fred!" Said Ron, his eyes glittering with shock and a newfound awe, "You're helping us?"

"'Course I am," Fred replied. He slapped Percy's hand off their collars and hissed menacingly, "Now get a move on while I try to knock some sense into this pompous git. George," he motioned, "You might want to go with them. Two heads are better than one and three are better than two. I'll join you in a second. Hurry."

George nodded and took off with a greatly relieved Harry and Ron. Percy was on the verge of exploding.

"I knew you were an idiot, Fred, but this is _preposterous! _Do you have any idea what you have just done?"

"Challenged your authority?" said Fred in a deadly calm voice, "Saved a life? Prevented the professors from embarrassing themselves in front of Mr and Mrs Granger?"

"You sent them to their _graves_!" Percy screeched. "You have just deliberately endangered the lives of fellow students and outright contradicted orders from the headmaster himself_!"_

"All in a good days work," said Fred softly, "And what will you do now? Will you continue to follow orders from our brilliant Professor Dumbledore who hasn't even noticed one of his student's lives is in danger and let her die or will you come and help us, as a friend and a brother?" He turned and looked back, remembering another time of Dumbledore's downfall, the root of his own brilliance and Percy choosing duty over friends and family. "It's your choice, Perce."

And with that, he ran towards the sounds of the explosion from the upstairs girl's bathroom, leaving a dumbstruck and very internally conflicted Percy behind.

Hermione screamed as the troll obliterated the last sink. It was over now. She could see it. The troll's beady little eyes were fixed on her and she uttered a silent plea. She wished she wasn't so stupid, crying over things like petty bickering. Boys were stupid; they were going to say stuff like that no matter who and how old they were. She should have never made such a fuss over everything, and she admitted that she should have never let her own superiority and selfishness cause all this. But she did, and she was beginning to regret her narrow-mindedness.

The troll raised its massive club and was just about to bring it down when the remains of a broken tap flung itself into its head.

"Run, Hermione!" Shouted Ron, and continued flinging smashed tiles and pieces of granite at the lumbering figure's head. Harry followed suit, and as the troll began thundering towards them her fear-paralysed body found itself being pulled away from the remains of the sink and on its feet.

"It's okay, I've got you," George shouted over the echoing noise and Hermione nodded dumbly. Then the initial shock from being assaulted by a full-grown troll suddenly wore off and she fumbled full-speed towards the door, fuelled by adrenaline, followed by George who was powering up some Zonkos' fireworks. They erupted into screaming showers of light and fizzed on the troll's skin, leaving barely visible burn marks. Ron, remembering that he was actually a wizard, pulled out his wand and began _Wingardium Leviosa-_ing everything he could see into the troll. Hermione beamed from a far corner of the bathroom.

But then Ron found himself as the target of the troll's wrath, as well as trapped between it and the wall. He backed away slowly; his wand clattering on the floor in fright, and Harry leapt on to the troll's leg and dug a sharp piece of wall into it, all the while screaming at Ron to get away as the Troll began flailing its massive piece of wood around, mad and wild and in pain and kicked Harry off. He hit the floor with a crunch and skidded past Hermione, who was once more rooted to the ground in terror. George patted his pockets and with dismay found he had no fireworks left.

"Expelliarmus!"

The staff spun out of its hand and embedded itself right into the wall. The troll turned its tiny head round and Fred wasted no time in flinging more joke items at George and casting spells faster than Harry, Ron and Hermione found possible; even George was surprised.

Fred wasn't made for battle. He was one of those people that were born for creating distractions and little plans. Perhaps it was in personality that he wanted to watch people squirm first and be thrown back later. But since he joined the DA and fought at the Great Battle of Hogwarts he found his movement faster, power greater, concentration deeper and spell selection smaller. He fired off blasting charms and concussion spells at an alarming rate and although they did little good against semi-impervious troll skin with his currently meagre magic core, they all managed to catch it in the eyes, confusing it, and one particular hex whacked it backwards by a couple of feet.

"Knock it over!" He yelled, sending the other four out of their stupor, "Knock it off its feet and immobilise it!" The three first years and one third year were in no position to argue, and they all began throwing and casting spells at its legs while Fred kept it distracted with weaker _Stupefy_s than he would've liked.

For some reason, it reminded him of all the times George was prepping their pranks and he was keeping their attention off him by being loud and crazy and being generically annoying. Ron noticed the club, still in the wall, and he and Harry began to levitate it over the trolls head…

The teachers followed Percy towards the girl's bathroom. At first, they feared the worst; that the troll looming over a dead Hermione, with Harry and the other three Weasleys sprawled over the ground, bleeding and comatose, their sullen eyes cast upon her corpse.

They did not expect a full out battle with Fred shooting curses with an efficiency that any fifth, sixth, even seventh year would be jealous of, George lighting fireworks like it was fourth of July, the should-be-dead Granger whipping small flames at its ankles and a giant club floating in the air, with Harry and Ron straining to get it over the maddening troll's head.

"Now!" Harry cried, and the club landed right on top of its skull with a loud _thunk! _It remained upright for a few more seconds, swayed and crashed into the floor like Quirrell did half an hour ago. Fred immediately conjured some ropes and tied it down, and George sprayed some goo from his wand and stuck its limbs to the floor.

They were tired, dusty and had scratches all over them from the flying debris, but they were so relieved they collapsed into a crumpled heap the second George put his arm down. Percy's eyes enlarged to the size of dinner plates. Quirrel fainted. McGonagall screamed.

"_What in the name of Merlin has happened here?"_

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><p>…<em>are glad you two and Ron are alright. Your mother screamed herself blue when we got the letter from Professor McGonagall saying that you and some other students fought against a fully grown mountain troll and <em>won. _That is no easy feat, but please do take more care in the future, especially if it involves other lives. _

_Expect a howler from Mum herself in the near future; she got a bit angry. Don't be alarmed. _

_The Wizengamot has realised that Sirius Black must be given a trial no matter what the circumstances, but we will have to prod at them some more if they will follow through._

_I hope you had a lovely Halloween (beside the troll) and have a good time at school._

_Dad._

_**FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!**_

_**DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS? I HAD NO IDEA THAT YOU WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO IGNORE YOUR OWN BROTHER, GO UP AGAINST A TROLL, AND DRAG HARRY AND RON WITH YOU! YOU HAVE WORRIED ME AND GINNY **_**SICK!**

_**I NEVER REALISED YOU WERE SO IRRESPONSIBLE, NEARLY KILLED YOURSELVES-**_

Fred's eyebrow twitched. "Got a bit angry, he said. Don't be alarmed, he said." George covered his ears with a pair of stolen earmuffs.

Further down the table, Ron was having a similar reaction. He was cowering under said table as the red letter started on him and spewed flames from a gap in the envelope into his hair.

_**-I HAVE TOLD YOU BEFORE, NEVER LISTEN TO THE TWINS WHEN THEY TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING IDIOTIC, BUT YOU COMPLETELY IGNORED MY ADVICE AND LEAPT RIGHT INTO A NEAR-SUICIDE-**_

Ron whimpered and Harry patted him sympathetically on the head.

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><p><strong>Click the button.<strong>

**I dare you.**

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**No, that's just a lie. But reviews are the literacy counterpart of chocolate. Get one when you're feeling down and you feel much better.**

**I dare you.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Fred sat in the Headmaster's office, nervous and fidgety. He should've been more careful, but what else could he do? Meanwhile George was beside him, giving him reassuring looks and put a hand on his lap. Fred gripped it gratefully, feeling the familiarity of his twin calming him, even if just a little. _

_Most of the Hogwarts staff was there. The room was thick with magical tension, and Fred's own apprehension didn't help. He avoided eye contact as much as possible, in case any of the professors felt brave enough to do a Legimens; he told George that before they came, and he too looked down, feigning shyness. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, eyes twinkling as usual as he examined McGonagall's stuffed cat._

"_I assume that you know why I have called you here, Mr Weasley," he said quietly, and handed the cat back to Minerva. Fred stiffened and George glared at the Headmaster, not into his eyes of course, but enough to show that he wasn't pleased about how he was asking questions. Fred silently agreed. It felt more like an interrogation room than a casual meeting in an office. Fawkes the phoenix tweeted and landed near Fred, rubbing its soft feathers against his face. Fred felt some courage flood back into him._

"_I do not, Professor," he replied. Dumbledore nodded and straightened, long aged fingers intertwining under his massive beard and elbows placed slowly on the table, his eyes gleaming brighter than ever._

"_Your wand work on Halloween was exemplary," continued Dumbledore, and Fred felt the interest of McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Flitwick, Quirrell, Binns, Kettleburn and Sinistra suddenly focus on him, "As is your coursework through what time we have spent in this term."_

"_Thank you, sir," said Fred, his hands suddenly shivering and cold._

"_It is a remarkable feat," said Dumbledore, rising out of his plush chair and began pacing towards him, "To cast disarming spells and blasting curses that is usually far beyond the understanding of third years. I congratulate you. Here," said Dumbledore, taking the eternally present bowl off his desk and put it in front of the two, "Sherbet Lemon, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley?"_

"_No thank you," said George, really not feeling that this was the time for sherbet lemons. Snape obviously agreed and cleared his throat loudly from his corner. Dumbledore sighed and popped one in his mouth, shaking his head sadly as if denying one of those sweets was like missing out on the greatest moment of your life. "Could we please get to the point, Professor?"_

"_Very well," murmured Dumbledore through the sour tang of the candy. "The professors here were curious on how you have progressed so quickly this term, and I too, am intrigued by your steep learning curve."_

_They knew what was going on. They thought that Fred was cheating, a child prodigy or a dark wizard in disguise and was quite ready to find out, judging the way that McGonagall was clasping her wand and her face pale and lips pressed into a thin line. George caught on as well and squeezed his hand tightly. They weren't prepared for this. Fred didn't think that his own knowledge would bring on so much trouble. His mind was overflowing with possible ideas, but his panic jumbled them up and he couldn't think straight. He should've known! He should've prepared-_

_His salvation came by the form of three desperate voices coming from the bottom of the stairwell._

"_Chocolate Frogs!"_

"_Bertie Blott's Every Flavour Beans!"_

"_Mint Jujubes!"_

"_Haribos!"_

"_Harry, how would Professor Dumbledore know about Haribos?"_

"_It just came to the top of my head!"_

"_What are Haribos?"_

"_They're gummy sweets that-oh, this isn't the time! Cauldron cakes!"_

_Fred's heart leapt and the professors suddenly looked towards the Headmaster, who was clearly amused by the rambling downstairs._

"_Honeydukes chocolate!"_

"_Blood pops!"_

"_Gummy bears!"_

_The stairwell opened and Harry's voice echoed in disbelief. "Gummy bears? Seriously?"_

_Dumbledore hummed merrily as three-no, four pairs of feet clattered noisily up and into his office. "Welcome, Mr Weasley. Miss Granger, Mr Weasley and Harry, how may I be of service?"_

_The three suddenly fell silent as the unseen wrath of the present teachers was diverted on to them for disturbing an important meeting. Hermione collected herself first and wailed; the three beside her-even Percy, who was somehow dragged along- jumped._

"_I'm so sorry!" She cried miserably, "It's my entire fault! If I didn't go off on my own Fred and George wouldn't be in trouble and Ron and Harry wouldn't have to get nearly killed and Percy-"_

"_Stop right there, Miss Granger!" Said McGonagall, "Did I hear you right? Did you go off on your own, knowing fully well that you could be in danger?"_

_It seemed that something snapped inside of Hermione earlier as she sobbed quietly , "I-I went to go look for it-I r-read all about them, of course- and I thought I c-could take care of it on m-my own-"_

_Percy opened his mouth in protest, but Harry stamped on his foot and Ron elbowed him in the ribs and he shut it, more obediently than thought possible._

"_I-I didn't think-," continued Hermione pathetically, "And i-if Harry and Ron and the twins didn't come to save me, I-I-" She took a tissue from her robes and blew loudly into it. Ron's bottom jaw hung around the premises of his feet as she cried and he used what little sanity he had left to pat her shoulder. Harry gave her a small hug and she sniffed, McGonagall conjuring more tissues and gave Hermione a little time to wipe her tears._

"_Really, Miss Granger!" said Minerva sternly, "You foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Five points from Gryffindor; I'm very disappointed in you."_

_Hermione replied by snorting hysterically into the fresh roll of paper._

"_I should take responsibility," said Percy, making himself known to the audience. Fred fell out of his chair and George's jaw joined Ron's on the floor._

"_I-I had attempted to stop them going to the troll," said Percy, stammering like Quirrell as his eyes darted around the room, "and had I succeeded Miss Granger would most certainly not be here , as Ron, Harry, Fred and George would not have been able to save her."_

_McGonagall glared. "Mr Weasley, why didn't you succeed? Innocent children have been under attack at your lack of resolve-"_

_Something seemed to have snapped inside Ron as well._

"_So you'd rather Hermione been killed?" He shouted angrily, "I'd rather be in danger rather than dead, you know! If Fred wasn't there to stop Percy-" He suddenly stopped, horrified at McGonagall's shocked expression, and shuffled in his beaten trainers, ears turning red. Harry backed him up, glaring at the pale professor who has finally realised what she had just implied._

"_I'm sorry, Mr Weasley," she said, shaken, "Ten points to each of you-yes, even you, Mr Weasley, you have followed our orders and came to get help-and you did take down a mountain troll-not many first years or even third years could accomplish this-"_

"_I think we should give fifteen points to Mr Weasley here, Minerva," said Dumbledore, eying Fred with slight suspicion now, "For knowing when to obey rules and when to act."_

"_Yes…yes, of course," said McGonagall, not noticing. Snape certainly did, and Fred snapped his eyes down to his lap from the intense hatred that emitted from the hook-nosed man. Harry noticed and stood beside Fred._

"_Whatever Fred did," Said Harry, "It isn't his fault." Ron followed and Percy looked like he would have liked to defend his brother as well, but stayed behind, looking ashamed of himself for not being brave or stupid enough to join Ron._

"_Back off, Potter," Snape said coolly, "This conversation does not involve your little rebellious streak."_

_Harry glared but at the sight of Dumbledore shaking his head sadly, looked away._

"_Perhaps we should involve Harry as well," said Dumbledore softly, "As Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley are his friends and he himself could give us a few hints. Isn't that right, Harry?" Harry nodded slowly, but then nodded at Ron, Hermione and Percy with a longing look. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again. "I don't see why not." Ignoring Snape's indignant stammers from behind him, the bearded headmaster waved his wand lazily and four plush chairs fell out of the air and landed softly on the carpeted floor. "Have a seat. You too, Percy."_

_The prefect turned red at being called his first name by the greatest wizard known to man, but lowered himself into his chair, face red. Dumbledore folded his hands again and looked at them calmly in turn. "Mr Weasley has been exceptionally brilliant this term. The professors here-" he nodded behind him, "-just need some consolation that Mr Weasley had not done anything that could ruin Gryffindor's name."_

"_You mean, Fred's a cheat?" Hermione gasped._

"_No, no, nothing of the sort; the innocent is innocent till proven otherwise, Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiled and held out his bowl of sherbet lemons again; nobody took one. "We are merely curious about his sudden advancement in magical progress. Percy," he said, smiling, "Has there been anything abnormal about your brother lately? Anything will do."_

"_Well," Percy pondered, "There was this time on the train when they got mad at each other-never happened before, you see-" Dumbledore nodded and he continued, "And he communicates with these three, as well as another first year called Neville Longbottom often; He does seem a little more subdued than usual and plots a lot more with George, but…" Percy thought harder, "I don't think there's anything else..."_

"_I see," said Dumbledore, and popped another one of the sour candies into his mouth. "Harry, how is your friendship with Mr Weasley? Is it any different from the other bonds you've forged here?"_

"_No," said Harry, "But he's more like a brother figure than a friend…George too. They're always there to help me at Quidditch." Fred beamed and George smiled heart-warmingly as Ron nodded furiously, rocking his chair slightly. _

"_They got Hermione out from danger and saved our lives, so I can't complain."_

"_And Miss Granger?"_

"_Fred tries to get me into conversations with my year-I mean, I'm not very well liked by some people- but they're nice and polite when they talk to me and try to make sure I'm not left out; I haven't been very helpful to them, so I really wish that I could help them too." Ron snorted from the 'polite' word and Hermione glared._

"_I see," said Dumbledore as he crunched the sherbet lemon thoughtfully, "I feel as if there is nothing abnormal here, other than one or two cases of early maturity. What do you think, Minerva?"_

_McGonagall nodded curtly. "Mr Weasley is an excellent pupil of mine. Cheeky and disobedient at times, I confess, but excellent nonetheless."_

"_Very well," said Dumbledore, and clapped his hands together. "Mr Weasley, have you thought about advancing year?"_

"_No way!" Ron cried, and Fred gripped George's hand even harder._

"_No," said Fred. "If I must, the George has to come with me."_

_Dumbledore must have seen a glimpse of his mind and he nodded. "Very well, Mr Weasley; but remember the offer is always open to you._

_"I believe now's the time to scoot off to bed. Percy, will you escort these five to the Gryffindor tower?"_

"_Yes, Professor," said Percy. "Come on, you lot. It's late already." The five trudged down the stairs, looking forward to a feast in the common room. Fred and George looked back at Dumbledore, who was muttering quietly to Snape._

_They didn't trust him._

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><p><strong>Looks like Ol'Dumbles is on to Fred now...<strong>

**I'm going through some harsh times and wrestling with life at the moment. (Life's winning and likes to rub it in my face.) I may have to stop writing for a while to settle things; so here's a short morsel for you guys just to let you know that no, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth and I will come back to it when I get time. If you have some advice, whether it's writing or life-orientated, I'm always happy to hear your thoughts.**

**Review! It's a wonderful encouragement to me!**


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